


Bedrest

by Qaroll



Series: The Molt Series Bonus Content [1]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Gay Male Character, Human Shed Skin, Kissing, M/M, Male Homosexuality, Mar Qaroll, Not Beta Read, Original Character(s), Original Universe, Suggestions of Internalized Homophobia, Suggestive Themes, Teasing, The Molt Series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-18
Updated: 2019-12-18
Packaged: 2021-02-18 08:01:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,218
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21840907
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Qaroll/pseuds/Qaroll
Summary: [Oneshot]Jean is visited by his lover in the Cellar's sickbay after getting injured on a hunt. Sometimes, he has to remember Celezar is a playful, cheeky son of a gun...Takes place before my original storyHuman Shed Skin: Inhuman. I just wanted to give a general idea of what Jean and Celezar's relationship was like before his inhumanity was revealed.Please let me know your thoughts! All feedback welcomed.
Relationships: Original Male Character/Original Male Character
Series: The Molt Series Bonus Content [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1573609
Comments: 2
Kudos: 4
Collections: Stories by Mar Qaroll





	Bedrest

**Author's Note:**

> **A/N:** This is just a random little thing I had lying around, the only one of its kind. There is a reference to this in _Inhuman_.
> 
> Also, this is seriously one of the most brilliant, well-written things I've ever pumped out. Why can't I write like this all the time...?

If there was one thing Jean hated in the life of an inhuman hunter, it was bedrest. The hours that passed while doing nothing, delegating work to those with more capable means of getting it done, laying down for hours to days on end within the bland sickbay; it was torture, to him. The pains that shot through his arm—fortunately, his auxiliary arm—were tolerable, in comparison.

The smug look on his lover's face as he stood in the doorway was also, fortunately, tolerable. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

Celezar's head tilted playfully to the side. "Oh, maybe it's nice to see you in a bad mood every now and then. You're adorable."

With his brooding demeanor and expression just bordering a pout, Jean could pass for adorable, but not by many. Most others would see him and call him a child, a wuss, to get over it; his men, especially. But _his_ man, his beloved Celezar, of course, would see him as anything but.

Jean briefly closed his eyes, exhaling, and then continued to stare at the opposite bed as he was approached. The soft clinks from metal adorning Celezar's person echoed in the silence, as did his comparatively soft footfalls while nearing the occupied bed. A tawny hand reached out to gently feather over the bandaged, elevated arm enclosed by gauze, causing pale fingers to twitch. The abrupt movement caused some pain, but Jean didn't notice too much, trying to keep face while attempting to ignore his lover's approach.

He could smell the other's sweat, his male musk. Celezar must have come back from the gym or a hunt; Jean hadn't been awake very long, lulled to sleep from abject boredom, making him unsure. Olive green danced out the corner of his eye; the damn bastard was finding this funny. His eyes closed when Celezar leaned closer, and his nostrils twitched while inhaling more of the man's natural aroma. It was strong. Heady. Earth, herbs and rain.

"You need to take a shower," he muttered.

There was a low hum, a playful, dangerous sound. "Tellin' me I stink, Jeanie-boy?"

His eyes slanted open to meet lopsided lips being licked by a silken tongue. He glanced away.

It wasn't that he didn't love any amount of attention given to him by Celezar. Quite the opposite. Many years ago, he learned he could be quite the needy one in a relationship, something which, at first, bothered him greatly. It was unmanly. Feminine. Weak. But part of him supposed what would be a relationship between two men if one of them wasn't the feminine one? Part of him hated that he could be that one.

The other part of him didn't care.

The bed dipped at his side. Once more, he closed his eyes. "Where are the others?" If they were near, he wasn't going to let this continue. Or, at least, he would try. Oddly, no matter how close the others had been in the past, he and Celezar had yet to be caught—except that one time. It worked out, in the end.

The bed dipped slightly on his right side. He didn't need to open his eyes to know Celezar's hand was there.

There was another dangerously low, playful hum. "Some of the men are lazing in the dining room. Saw some on the way from the gym. The rest are briefing on a hunt."

The older man's voice was getting lower. Jean clenched his teeth before muttering, "Where's Verne?"

It was somewhat unusual for the doctor to be absent from his office; that much Jean could tell. If Verne had been there, there would be obvious soft sounds of movement, papers shuffling or soft voices from telephone calls. It was even more unusual for Verne to not be there while Jean of all people was in the sickbay, as he was known for disobeying doctor's orders.

His lips then parted, and he found his head tilting slightly upwards to expose more of his neck as it was skimmed by a nose. Cool breath tickled his skin, sending a shiver down his back. Celezar had the uncanny ability to seemingly adjust his body temperature to whatever seemed necessary in the moment of contact with him. It was truly wonderful. Uncanny, but wonderful.

Yet another hum emitted from the older man. "No idea."

Shifting, Jean sighed before turning his head. As he moved, Celezar lifted his own to look him in the eye, olive greens to electric blues. Auburn hair cascaded over the man's face. "What are you doing?" His voice was almost a whisper.

Another lopsided smile. "Cheering you up, love. You look like you could use it." Celezar was whispering, and he didn't bother to move his hair out of his face. The green peeking through reddish locks paired with his cheeky smile made his mischief all the more apparent. He was looking for confirmation of his approach.

Jean's lips slightly pursed, and he scanned the man's expression with slight consideration. But only for a second. A leader had to have restraint, which Jean had learned to master, needy or not. He stared forward again, settling back into the pillows to move away from the immediate reach of Celezar's lips. "Not now."

A pout formed on those lips, but Celezar didn't move away. "Might not get another chance, today."

This was likely true. Celezar was almost always right when it came to this. Jean hated himself for reconsidering, his eyes twitching and blinking before finally closing as he thought it through.

The bed dipped further, and lips skimmed over his. Cracking a smile, he allowed the kiss, leaning deeper into it until Celezar pressed back, deepening it further. Celezar's tongue was slick, roamed lazily in his mouth. Jean found himself reaching up to massage his fingers into the man's locks, pulling him closer until there was a soft, amused chuckle.

Dammit, he seemed desperate. His mind tried to sum it up logically: It had been a while since they kissed.

 _Dammit_.

A calloused hand reached sneakily under his shirt. He didn't even notice the sheets lower. Sly, quick fingers. Celezar was a devil.

He softly laughed to himself, opening his eyes as the kiss gently broke. The appraisal in the man's eyes left him feeling self-conscious, but he couldn't help but smile.

" _That's_ what I was looking for, Jeanie-boy." Celezar's own smile was that slant-eyed, soft expression on a freckled face that Jean could never believe formed on the face of his lover. It was too loving. Too self-satisfied at the catch he had.

Sometimes, Jean wondered if the same expression formed on his when he looked at him.

Celezar removed his hand, and the warm touch went with it, before he stood from the bed. The look in his eyes told Jean he ran out of time for consideration. "Talk to you later, love. I'm going to skip tomorrow's hunt, alright? I want to drink tonight, anyway."

_Make more time for you, tomorrow._

The words were unsaid, but Jean heard them loud and clear. His smile remained as he nodded, and he watched his lover saunter down the aisle. A lazy wave was given to him before the tall form disappeared behind the double-doors, leaving him in silence once more.

**Author's Note:**

>  **A/N:** Thank you so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed this and that it piqued your interest in the story of Jean-Luc Lowell!


End file.
